


Super Bowl Sunday

by AllegedlyActual



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Super Bowl, xfwritingchallenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 04:45:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5954113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllegedlyActual/pseuds/AllegedlyActual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Scully watch the Super Bowl. Mulder likes guac. Set during the Revival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Super Bowl Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @leiascully's XF Writing Challenge. Prompt- television. 
> 
> I don't own the characters, yadda yadda yadda.

“Mulder, you’re going to miss the commercials!”

“I’m coming,” he called, lightly jogging into the living room.

He sat on the couch beside her, moving plates of chips, wings, and snacks to make room for the mixing bowl of guacamole he’d been carrying.

“OK, Scully. I think we’re ready.” He clapped his hands together eagerly, reaching for a chip.

Scully looked at the massive spread of food on the coffee table. She raised an eyebrow, tipping a glance at him.

“This seems like a lot of food. Did you spend your entire paycheck just on avocados?”

“You can never have too much guac, Scully.” He grinned and shoved a huge bite into his mouth.

She smiled back and relaxed into the couch. She took a swallow of her beer, an earthy amber ale.

They were quiet, watching the Anthem. Mulder had settled in next to her, comfortably leaning into her shoulder.

“You still rooting for the Broncos, Mulder?”

“Yeah. I identify with middle-aged underdogs with tendencies toward the obsessive. You?”

“Oh, I don’t care. I just like the commercials. But I also identify with middle-aged underdogs with tendencies toward the obsessive.”

They laughed companionably, settling in closer, thighs touching now. He placed his arm around her shoulders.

She opened another beer. “To underdogs,” she declared. They clinked their bottles, each taking a drink. She looked up at him as he watched the game. He groaned as Denver failed to convert on 3rd down and had to kick a field goal. She smiled. He was young at times like this. They had nowhere else to be and nothing to concern them. He had been old for a long time, the light gone from his eyes and confidence gone from his step. Only recently did he seem more himself- curious, playful, stubborn.

He felt her eyes on him and turned to look down at her. She startled as he met her gaze. “Do I have buffalo sauce on my face?” he asked softly, mischief in his eyes.

She smiled. “No. Well, actually, yes.” She chuckled. “Let me get that for you.”

She reached up to brush the wing sauce from the corner of his mouth. He caught her hand before she could make contact. He caressed her palm with his thumb, suddenly breathing rapidly. The air between them crackled. She sat up, pulling his face down to hers. Their mouths crashed together. She moaned, climbing into his lap. He ran his hands under her shirt and up her back, reveling in the warmth and softness of her skin. She pressed against him and he smiled, breaking their kiss.

She pulled away, cupping his face in her hands. His lips were swollen, the bottom one begging to be nibbled. She was flushed, breathing heavily, eyes a dark blue. She searched his eyes, feeling their connection. Feeling complete.

His breath caught when he saw the look on her face. Her gaze was so intense, so blue, and her hair was a fiery red halo around her beautiful skin. “Did you get it?” he asked, softly mocking, his thumbs making circles on her thighs.

She raised her eyebrow, leaning closer. Her breasts pressed into his chest. She kissed his jaw, light as butterfly wings, then traced her tongue across his bottom lip, ending in the corner of his mouth. “Mmm hmm,” she murmured, moving to suck his earlobe.

He closed his eyes and sighed, television, football, and underdogs forgotten.


End file.
